


Don't Scroll Up

by Persuade_me



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Jon Snow Knows Nothing, Sexts sent to the wrong person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 00:10:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21127568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persuade_me/pseuds/Persuade_me
Summary: Arya should really check to make sure she's sending her texts to the right person.Inspired by a Tumblr post.





	Don't Scroll Up

He’s trying to unlock his front door with his arms full of groceries when his phone buzzes with a text message. His keys are still in the door when it buzzes again ten seconds later, but he’s holding two bags in one arm and a twelve pack and a pizza in the other.

So when his phone starts buzzing nonstop, he panics, dropping the bags and groaning when he hears the vinegar shatter, the pungent smell invading his senses and causing him to jerk backwards. His precariously balanced pizza slides off the top of his twelve pack and crashes to the floor upside down. 

“Shit!” 

Then he hears Ghost barreling down the hallway, nails clacking against the hardwood floor as he runs. 

“Ghost, no!”

But it’s too late. The wolf has already scarfed down half of what was meant to be Jon’s dinner, and the other half is spread all over his rug. 

His phone is still buzzing inside his messenger bag, and he carefully sets his twelve pack down before digging it out. It starts ringing the second he grabs it, and he answers immediately when he sees Arya’s name, certain that someone must be dying for her to be trying this hard to get a hold of him.

“What’s wrong? Where are you?”

Her voice is shrill. “Don’t read those texts!” 

“What?”

“Don’t. Read. Those. Texts!”

He pulls the phone away from his head, putting the call on speaker as he does. Clicking over to his messages app, he’s startled to see he’s missed 27 texts from his cousin. 

“What the fuck, Arya?” 

“Don’t read them, Jon. I’m serious.” He’s never heard her sound quite this hysterical, and he’s worried she’s losing it.

“Why did you text me 27 times if you didn’t want me to read them?”

“Because! I sent you something I shouldn’t have, and I was trying to get it off your screen.”

“What did you send me?” A thought suddenly hits him, and he feels sick. “It wasn’t a picture, was it? Please, Arya. Please tell me you’re not sending someone naked pictures.”

Her laugh is strangled. “No, no. It wasn’t a picture.”

His relief is palpable. How bad could it be then? He clicks on her name and starts scrolling up, reading her messages from bottom to top.

Arya: Don’t scroll up.  
Arya: Don’t scroll up.  
Arya: Don’t scroll up.  
Arya: Don’t scroll up.  
Arya: Don’t scroll up.  
Arya: Don’t scroll up.  
Arya: I mean it.  
Arya: Don’t scroll up.  
Arya: Don’t scroll up.  
Arya: Don’t scroll up.  
Arya: I swear Jon.   
Arya: You’ll regret it.  
Arya: Don’t scroll up.  
Arya: Don’t scroll up.  
Arya: Don’t scroll up.  
Arya: Please stop.  
Arya: Stop  
Arya: Don’t read these.  
Arya: …  
Arya: …  
Arya: lasdjfl;  
Arya: ;alskf j  
Arya: a;ldfkj  
Arya: Shit  
Arya: Shit  
Arya: Shit  
Arya: Fuck, last night was amazing. I’ve been thinking about riding my bull all day long, and as soon as I’m done with work, I’m heading over to your place for another round of our own naked rodeo, so you better be ready because I’m going for a new personal record for how long I can stay on.

He blinks. Stares at the words. Blinks again. The words form sentences, but they don’t make any sense. Arya doesn’t even like cows. Why would she…

Oh. 

Fuck.

He’s heard the phrase “seeing red” but it’s never made sense to him until this precise moment. His baby cousin was- She was- Oh, gods. He’s going to puke. 

“Jon?!”

Her voice cuts through the haze, and he explodes. “Who the fuck are you texting those filthy things to, Arya?”

She snorts. “Filthy? You have no idea.”

“Who? Who is it, Arya? Who are you riding like a-” He cuts himself off abruptly, the nausea in his gut multiplying exponentially. “_Gendry_,” he hisses out. “I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna pull Longclaw off the wall, and I’m gonna cut his dick off.” 

“You will do no such thing, Jon. I’m a grown ass woman, and who I chose to fuck is my business.”

“But-”

“No! I told you not to read those texts, and if you even think about touching Gendry or trying to intimidate him, then I will not hesitate to post those pictures of you from last Halloween.”

“But-” 

“No, Jon. Not that it’s any of your business, but I love him and he loves me. We were holding off on telling you because we knew you’d pitch a fit. Now, I’m hanging up, and if I hear anything other than you telling Gendry that you’re very happy for us both, then I will make you regret it. Do you understand?”

He is silent. 

_ “Do you understand?” _

“Yes,” he says sullenly, and she hangs up without another word. 

He stands there, staring at his phone for a moment before deleting the texts. Not that it matters because those words are seared into his brain for eternity. Oh gods. Arya. And Gendry. Arya and Gendry. Together. Doing...things. Grown up things that she shouldn’t even know exist.

He sinks to the floor, not even noticing the puddle of vinegar that’s seeping into his shoes. Ghost comes over to lick his face, and he pats him absentmindedly. His gaze travels around, taking in the groceries all over the floor, his ruined pizza, and his twelve pack. He grabs at the beer like a man dying of thirst and guzzles down an entire can without stopping to breathe. Popping open the second can, he lets out a long “fuuuuuuck.” After the eighth can, he wonders what it was he was so mad about. Something about Arya, he thinks. Arya and... Gendry. Shit. He reaches for another can. Thank the gods for alcohol. 


End file.
